


Career Change

by Dizzy28



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Post Flynn's disappearance, Set around 1989 or 1990
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 15:39:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6476134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dizzy28/pseuds/Dizzy28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The role of CEO brings with it some deeply unpleasant responsibilities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Career Change

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moss28](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moss28/gifts).



> This one is both to prove to myself I can write someone other than Alan and Kevin, and as a gift of sorts for moss28, who 100% inspired this fic by being the #1 Popcorn Coworker Fan, and making me read a terrible fic which left me scarred and with this idea, which hopefully is at least partially better than that disgraceful fic.

He makes his way to the top floor, the walls closing in around him as he nears the door. He stops before it, fidgeting before screwing his eyes shut and shaking his head.

_Pull yourself together, Roy!_ He berates himself. It was just Alan Bradley behind that door, good old dependable Alan, who, until tragedy struck and silly traditions were forgotten, still invited him over on Saturdays for sci-fi movie nights, and shared a huge - probably unhealthily so - bucket of buttered popcorn with him.

The same Alan Bradley who Roy is painfully aware is about to fire him. The man had been CEO for two weeks - and had it really been already fifteen days since the _presumed dead_ announcement had _officially_ started hanging around their heads? - and Alan was already being forced to let half of the staff from the developing floor go. Culminating with the Lead Programmer, apparently. To hire fresh talent, the board had said; to get a bunch of power-hungry kids in to suck up to the bigwigs, Roy thought. As CEO, Alan had certain power, but a word from the shareholders and he knew his dearest friend would have no option but to bend over backwards.

Roy takes a deep breath, but it doesn’t quieten the ringing in his ears or calm the tremors in the hand he raises to knock on the door. He doesn’t know what’s more scary: leaving the place he’s worked in for over a decade, being unemployed for the first time since he graduated, or having to hear his best friend deliver the news.

There’s a sharp command from the other side of the door asking him to come in, and Roy steels himself and opens the door, standing rooted to the spot when he sees his current CEO throwing the contents of his desk haphazardly into a big cardboard box.

“Alan,” Roy closes the door behind him, and approaches the other, “what the hell are you doing?”

Alan looks up at him, glasses gone - and Roy suspects, somewhere under the pile of folders and papers on his desk - his short brown hair uncharacteristically mussed.

“This the last straw, Roy. The last goddamn straw.” His voice is hoarse, and Roy suspects he’s either been screaming or crying; and knowing what Flynn’s disappearance has done to his friend’s mental health, he’s not sure which is more likely.

He grabs the keyboard off his desk and so much as rips the cable from the computer with a tug before placing it inside the box.

“Woah, take it easy!” Roy, takes another step forward, and Alan pins him down with a look, and if Roy didn’t know Alan was as harmless as a fly - even with his penchant for taking out his frustration with inanimate objects - he would have been scared. “Just tell me what’s going on, please? I came up here terrified you were gonna fire me.” He gives his friend a small and slightly awkward smile, and Alan’s shoulders fall slightly as some if his anger seeps away.

“I was,” he mutters softly, turning around and looking out through the window overlooking the tall buildings and avenues of Center City, missing the way Roy’s eyes widen at his words. There goes his hope of keeping the job.

Alan has a tightly clenched fist hovering in the air, and for a second Roy’s scared his friend is going to punch the glass into oblivion, but then he lowers it, and his voice is calmer, if remorseful, when he turns around. “Was supposed to, anyway.”

Roy frowns. “Why aren’t you?”

Alan tilts his head, frowning as well. “What?”

“Why aren’t you firing me?”

Alan opens his mouth, but only a small, frustrated noise comes out. He pushes his lips together tightly again, and shakes his head. “Do you want to be fired?” His tone is sarcastic and tinged with annoyance.

“Are you kidding? I love this job.”

Alan is ready to punch a hole through the wall, and Roy knows it, takes pity on him, too - but only because it’s been a rough couple of months for the older programmer. “Alan, are you seriously going to resign just because you don’t want to fire me?”

Alan’s face falls, and his voice is tired as he rummages through the things already inside the cardboard box, more to occupy his hands than anything else. “It’s not just that,” he mutters softly, “Kev wouldn’t have wanted this.”

Roy sighs. Alan is right, of course. Flynn had already bawled at the idea of losing Lora to a better opportunity in DC, he could only imagine what he would have thought of Roy losing his job all together.

Still, there’s something more important than his job in play here, and Roy feels like Alan needs a reminder. “What about Sam?”

Alan’s head shoots up. “What about him?”

“I thought that’s what this whole CEO deal was about,” Alan interrupts him with a groan, but Roy goes on, “keeping ENCOM safe so Sam can take over it when he’s old enough. **That’s** what Kevin would have wanted. Besides what’s the point? They’re gonna fire me anyway, aren’t they?” Alan looks away, hand rubbing at his brow before nodding.

There’s a short silence as Alan mulls over Roy’s words, and he finally lets out a sigh, bone deep, and slowly but surely starts rescuing his stuff from the box and placing it back onto the desk.

Roy smiles sadly, a bitter-sweet feeling running through him. It’s for the best, but he sure as hell is going to miss ENCOM.

Almost as if sensing his thoughts, Alan looks up, giving the shorter man a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “The place’s gonna feel empty without you, Ram.”

The usage of the nickname, something so achingly Flynn, almost brings tears to Roy’s eyes and he places a hand on Alan’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Roy can’t help but feel that there’s a small part of him staying at ENCOM, and he can only hope that’ll be enough to keep the lonely man in front of him company.


End file.
